


Our Hands Will Never Be Clean

by hedgerowhag



Series: Act of Violence and Consequence [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hux is useless at emotions, Kylo is an affectionate drunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am drunk."</p><p>“… And?” Hux drawls, shifting the papers on his desk back into folders. </p><p>“I forgot—.” A hiccup, it sounds as if Kylo almost vomited in his own mouth. “I forgot that I need to pick up my cousin from practice.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Hands Will Never Be Clean

**Author's Note:**

> send jesus, [i need](http://beeeeebeeee.tumblr.com/) help  
> title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xE4luE9qKUI)
> 
> EDIT: holy shit you people, thank you so much for such wonderful responses! genuinely giddy with the pleasant surprise, so thank you thank you thank you! this fic will be re-edited several times over the course of at least a month because i planned it and wrote it over the course of 2 days. will there be a sequel? holy fuck i don't know, i hope so.

The call comes through at ten in the evening. Hux doesn’t bother to look at the caller ID as he picks it up.

“I am drunk,” is the greeting.

“… And?” Hux drawls, shifting the papers on his desk back into folders.

“I forgot—.” A hiccup, it sounds as if Kylo almost vomited in his own mouth. “I forgot that I need to pick up my cousin from practice.”

“Well,” Hux switches off the desk lamp and sits back, rubbing his free hand over his eyes, “you can’t drive in that condition.”

“I know. I need your help.”

“I am guessing you want me to drive… correct?”

“Yup.” Another hiccup. “Look, I know it’s Thursday and all, but I promise I’ll let you get back home before eleven.”

Hux puts down the phone, still on the line. “God help me,” he sighs and presses the phone back to his ear. “I will be at your apartment in ten.” He ends the call before Kylo can reply.

 

Whatever Hux and Kylo are is not _friends_ , but it isn’t acquaintances either. Acquaintances don’t end up crying on each other’s shoulders at four o’clock in the morning while drunk and then try not to make eye contact in the morning. When people are just _acquaintances_ and one sees the other out on the streets without a home or money they don’t help them get back on their feet.

Whatever they are, Hux doesn’t want to name it or explain it.

However, he does regret knowing the damn man when he pulls up on the street directly beneath Kylo’s apartment to find an indistinguishable lump of black on the porch beneath the streetlights. He looks pathetically drunk, and asleep.

Hux blames his unwillingness to get out of the car on blaring the horn in order to wake up Kylo. And it certainly works; Kylo almost topples onto the ground from the shock of the sound, jumping to his feet bleary eyed before almost falling again.

 

Hux swears he can hear the liquids churning in Kylo’s stomach each time the car passes over a speed hump or a pothole. A groan follows each jolt, joined by a gurgling sound when Kylo supresses his vomit.

For the sake of focusing on the road Hux tries to ignore it, concentrating on flashes of the tail lamps and traffic lights.

Before they set off, Hux managed to decipher the where abouts of the gym amongst Kylo’s grumbling as the drunk became all too fascinated with the scratches on the car door window. As far as Hux understood, the cousin in question is called Rey, a college student living in the city dormitories and who attends boxing lessons every Tuesday and Thursday.

Of course, Kylo has been tasked with looking after her as a responsible adult with a family relation. _Of course_ , he spectacularly fails at it.

“Stop the car!” Hux slams on the breaks as Kylo throws an arm across the dashboard, unconcerned with the traffic piling up behind them as the drivers beat the horns of their cars.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hux cries out, his voice climbing in pitch.

“Gimme your wallet,” Kylo demands, pawing at Hux’s coat.

“What? No!” But the alcohol dumbed hands don’t disappear as Kylo rummages his pockets. “Get off me you fucking imbecile!” Hux tries to swat Kylo away before he gets what he wants but it is too late because Kylo has jumped out of the car with Hux’s wallet in hand.

It seems like a triumph in patience when Hux pulls the car to the curb, ignoring the angry shouts of the passing drivers. Really, it is an actual feat that Hux decides to remain in the car instead of getting out and chasing after Kylo – wherever the fuck he has decided to go.

So Hux waits there, the engine still on, the indicator flicking on and off as he sits.

The sound of the door opening startles Hux out of his murderous meditation. Kylo falls back into the seat, his inexplicably long and uncoordinated legs folding into the car as he hopelessly fumbles to close the door.

“Thanks,” Kylo mutters, slapping the wallet onto the dashboard.

“And the reason for all of that was…?” Then Hux notices the takeaway box in Kylo’s hands. “Oh. Curly fries. Do you actually even—.”

“C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

“And whose fault is that?”

 

They do get there, eventually. The box of curly fries lies on the dashboard cooling as the car pulls into the carpark in front of the gym. The front doors are wide open, the yellow-white lights pouring out with the sound of a hoover skidding across lino floors. A figure sits on the steps in front of the doors, a sports bag slumped beside them.

The glass squeaks and screeches as Kylo winds down the window before swinging his upper torso out of it – only saved from falling by Hux catching him by the belt.

“Rey!” Kylo waves frantically to the girl even though she is no more than ten feet away.

Rey frowns, standing up and slinging her bag over one shoulder. “Ben?” she calls out. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t call me that!” Kylo snaps, still hanging half out of the window, his feet digging into Hux’s stomach. “Get in,” he mutters before slinking back into his seat.

Hesitantly, Rey rounds the car and takes the seat behind Kylo. Her unzipped jacket is slipping off her shoulders, the gym clothes stained with sweat. Hux has seen her before and has always been curious about the lack of family resemblance. He never pried.

“Hux,” Rey says in greeting. He only nods back.

As the car begins to pull out of the carpark Kylo suddenly twists around in his seat, straining the seatbelt that Hux strapped him in with at the last moment. “I almost forgot,” he says, pushing the box of fries into Rey’s hands. “An apology,” he explains, “for being late.”

 

The night traffic is dissipating in the city, the crowds of pedestrians thinning as the last of the restaurants and late-closing shops begin to pull the shutters.

As the car parks beneath the dormitory block Rey sits satisfied in the back seat, her hands greasy from the fries. She zips up her jacket and pulls on the hood before getting out.

“Ben, can I talk to you?” she asks, the door is open and the cool night air chills the car.

“Sure,” Kylo replies, unconcerned by the name Rey uses. The seatbelt twisting around him as he turns uncomfortably.

“No, I mean—,” Rey pauses, looking at Hux briefly. “I need to speak to you privately.”

“Oh,” Kylo mutters, fumbles with the seatbelt and gets out of the car.

They stand out of the light of the headlamps near the wall of the building. Kylo has his head bowed, trying to keep himself steady as he listens. Rey’s voice is soft, posture calm but strong.

A moment passes before Kylo says anything and it’s too soft to hear but he is shaking his head and backing away from Rey. Before he can pull away, Rey catches his arm and pulls him into an awkward embrace: Rey has to stand on her tiptoes, slinging an arm around Kylo’s neck while keeping the other braced on his arm. Kylo doesn’t budge, keeping his back rigid.

After a moment they part. Rey enters the building and Kylo returns to the car. He sits down, bracing his arms against the dashboard, hiding his face in them.

“What was that about?” Hux asks, looking nonchalantly ahead. It’s none of his business and he doesn’t care – no, really. But it is in his best interest to know if it is something that might cause one of Kylo’s infamous tantrums. Especially in the condition that he is in.

“Nothing,” Kylo sighs against his arm.

“Good,” snaps Hux. “It’s time to get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” the whine is muffled by Kylo’s nose being mushed into his arms.

“And I don’t _care._ ”

Kylo is thrown back into his seat as the car screeches down the street.

 

Sometime later as they pass through a tree shaded road lined with rows of brownstones Kylo clasps his hands over his mouth. “I am going to be sick,” he grits through his fingers.

For the second time during the night Hux pulls his car to the curb as Kylo jumps out of the door. He runs to a trashcan before violently vomiting, the whole contents of his stomach spluttering out in one painful gasp. Even after there is nothing else to throw up, Kylo keeps spluttering foul spit from his mouth.

Eventually, he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and heads back to the car, looking worse than a rat that just took a swallow of pesticide.

 

They somehow end up in an all-night diner. Kylo has an entire pitcher of water to himself and he gulps down half of it in an attempt to wash away the taste of vomit while Hux mulls over a cooling cup of coffee; he has decided that he’s going to need as much energy as he can get for the night.

The diner is almost entirely empty and the staff are scarcely seen. When it appears as if Kylo has finally sobered a little Hux decides to speak.

“What did Rey tell you?” he asks.

Hux didn’t actually expect an answer but is pleased when he receives it anyway. “She said she got a call from my dad,” Kylo explains. “He wants me back home, he says—,” Kylo’s voice cracks and he breaks off. “She _said_ my dad told her there is nothing to be ashamed about – about what I’ve done. She said that I am always welcome home.”

“And you believe that?” Hux watches Kylo who refuses to look at him, sternly staring out of the window, arms crossed.

Kylo thinks a moment before he speaks again. “The first time I told my parents ‘no’, I thought they would be relieved and would never ask again. But they keep asking and asking. They keep telling me that it’s _‘okay’_.”

“Maybe it is.”

“You of all people should know it really fucking isn’t.”

The history between Kylo and Hux is a complicated one. It starts almost a decade ago, when Hux was just an intern in the law firm of which he has now become a valuable asset. A new case came in, something high profile, an entire mob on the trial for numerous crimes such as the possession of illegal firearms and drugs, murder, human trafficking and so on.

The firm decided to take the case, but there was really nothing much to be done but work the sentences down. What else do you do for monsters?

Amongst the guilty was a young boy – he wasn’t even twenty years old – with shaggy black hair, an awkward, uneven face and sad brown puppy eyes. He named himself _Kylo Ren_. That wasn’t his real name though.

Hux had thought the boy was laughably out of place; so innocent and so naïve amongst the scumbags of the earth. He wondered why they kept him until weeks later after taking the case he saw the recordings of the boy when his mother – Leia Organa, a politician – visited him. When people say that Kylo threw fits, they are truly underestimating.

Later one, Hux saw the dents in the walls himself. But it was nothing compared to what they boy could do to flesh and bone.

Still, after much research and deliberation Hux decided that Kylo did not deserve to be where he was. So he did what felt right and worked and worked to obliterate the sentence that hung over Kylo’s head.

And in the end… Kylo was free to walk while the others were sent to high security prisons. Some for life, others for only a little less.

When Kylo’s parents received the information that it was Hux who made sure their son didn’t go to prison they thanked him personally. But their son still refused to come home, too ashamed to face his parents again. At least, he had sense in that.

After the trials, Hux and Kylo seemed to find each other again and again – only by accident. At first, it was awkward; they didn’t know how to interact with each other outside of the holding cells, prison visiting rooms and court rooms. So they fled each other. But as the accidental meetings went on they quit fighting it.

“Kylo,” Hux says sternly, watching the other man try to focus on him with bleary eyes.

Something keeps digging on Hux’s mind and he hates himself for even thinking it. “Can I ask you something?” he tries slowly. It’s so very unlike him, to be so soft with his words – brutal commands and truths define him.

“I don’t know, can you?” Kylo bites out, like a teenager on the verge of a tantrum.

“Why did you drink tonight?” Hux asks. “You don’t even like drinking and you never forget to pick up Rey.”

There is silence as Kylo refuses to meet Hux’s eyes again, too fascinated by the empty glass that he takes in hand. The tension that creases his face is gone, replaced by something mellow that makes his eyes go soft and mouth slack. He swallows heavily before speaking, “I didn’t want to be alone tonight, and I knew you’d help me. You’re kind like that.”

Hux snorts, forgetting himself.

“You’re really not as cold hearted as you would like to think you are.” Kylo is grinning now, looking to Hux who is forcing down a smile.

“Oh—will you just— I don’t know, shut up?”

“Why? You really think I could ever see you as the sober headed, stone hearted Hux that everyone else knows?”

It’s awkward and too soft – too soft for either of them. It’s like some stupid romance novel moment before they lean in and kiss like some secret lovers who will promise to never show this side of themselves to anyone else. But they aren’t even friends.

“I really don’t want to go home tonight.”

“Fine, where do you want to go?”

Kylo shrugs, “I don’t know.”

They lapse into silence. The door creaks as somebody enters the diner, the coffee machines hiss and sounds of the streets are just distant echoes. Kylo has his head pressed against the table top, his arms bracketing around him. The denim of his jacket is scuffed and stained with grease and oil, the tattered hood that is falling over Kylo’s head doesn’t seem to have fared better.

Somehow, it’s past midnight and by his third coffee refill Hux feels his hands begin to shake. It’s no use pretending Hux will be able to go home and get up tomorrow as if nothing happened. If he doesn’t close off the encounter he knows it’s going to be nudging his mind for days.

“Come on, let’s go,” Hux says and it doesn’t take much to get Kylo to get up. Hux pays and they leave.

 

The city streets are almost entirely empty, the traffic and the people long gone. Though the drive is short Kylo falls asleep, his head limp against the window frame, expression slack. The flashes of the passing streetlights make him groan and toss but not even the speed humps wake him up.

They pass into the heart of the city where the skyscrapers loom and the sky is obscured by pollution. The city districts are plastered with extravagant billboards that flash like delusional dreams. Buildings made entirely out of glass crowd and gleam like beacons in the neon lights, falling back when the apartments open around the streets. In this part of the city there are mainly penthouses and neat, white pillared six figure buildings – the stuff of daydreams only attained by movie stars and bankers.

Slowly, the car pulls in under a red brick building with glass balconies and tall windows. The apartment numbers are engraved on the glass door of the lobby and the call buttons are placed in neat rows of chrome beside it.

Hux gets out of the car and rounds to where Kylo is still sleeping. He opens the door and shakes him by the shoulder, Kylo’s head lolls as he draws into consciousness.

“You need to get up,” exhaustion drawls Hux’s tongue, he has been awake for longer than he would care to know.

Eventually, Kylo regains control of his body and gets out of the car. “Where are we?” he asks, squinting at the building above them.

“My apartment.”

“Why?”

“You said that you don’t want to go home.”

“And you decided this is the next best option?” Kylo asks, as he wobbles on the curb, the alcohol still lingering in his system.

“If you want,” Hux sneers, “you can walk back to the dump you call ‘home’.” And with that he turns around and enters the building lobby. He hears footsteps behind him and tries hard not to grimace.

There aren’t elevators in the building and Hux takes great pleasure in hearing Kylo pant behind him as they take the stairs, taking a break from the climb with every flight. By the time they get to the fourth floor Kylo is almost collapsing and Hux is certainly not giddy with viciousness.

He unlocks the door and the cool air from the conditioning pours over him. Inside, the floors are swept clean and the walls are white and bare. The rooms are lit by the orange streetlights, the glow pouring in through the windows and the glass doors of the balcony, offering an unobscured view of the streets below.

All surfaces are bare in the apartment: the black leather couch and the coffee table, the granite kitchen countertop and the surfaces of the cabinets. There isn’t an object out of place on the shelves and bookcases. The only thing that drives the harmony askew is the sight of the laptop lying atop a stack of folders on the bed.

Finally, Hux feels like his murderous intentions have passed.

As soon as Kylo is through the door Hux locks it and sweeps into the apartment, taking off his coat, hangs it inside the concealed closed in the hallway and toeing off his shoes, not bothering to switch on the lights. Hux enters the bedroom, takes the folders and shoves them into a drawer of a cabinet.

“Now you,” Hux says, pointing at Kylo who stands in the living room, “can sleep on the couch.” He opens he windows and the balcony doors, airing the rooms. “I’ll expect that you will be gone in the morning.” He pauses, looking out onto the balcony. Suddenly, Hux realises he hasn’t heard a reply. “Kylo?” he calls out.

In the living room, there is a trail of shoes and clothes – a jacket and a hoodie – leading to the bedroom where Kylo lies face down on the bed. His feet hang off the side and hands are showed under a pillow. The laptop is slipping off the dipped bed and Hux catches it before it falls.

Hux considers the invader for a moment before beginning to tug the duvet from under the dead weight of Kylo. Miraculously, as he pulls, Kylo rolls over allowing the cover to slip from under him as he comes to lie on the mattress. With that, Hux leaves the room.

Folding the duvet on the couch and placing the laptop onto the coffee table, Hux begins kicking the discarded shoes and clothing into the hallway. He leaves them to lie on the floor and goes to make coffee; he has decided to remain awake for the rest of the night and deal with the consequences in the morning.

Hux wanders back to the couch as the coffee begins to brew and opens his laptop. There are dozens of opened documents that he entirely forgot about as he left on the errand of rescuing helpless Kylo. He begins to read them, rubbing his eyes that ache from the glare of the screen. The clicking becomes mechanical, his mind glazing over as Hux scans the words that he fails to process.

The wind brushes against the curtains of the balcony as the computer hums quietly, and below the cars rush and disappear – so distant that they are almost like memories.

 

It must have been the light that woke up Hux. It falls inside through the window, reflecting off the white walls and illuminating the room with unbearable starkness.

Slowly, awareness crawls back into Hux’s mind, booting up like a computer coming online. As soon as his mind is at a level of intelligible coherency he brings his hands up to rub over his eyes and leans forward, bracing his elbows against his knees as he groans – he can feel pain developing in his back from sleeping on the couch.

Why the fuck is he on the couch?

Oh—right. Kylo. Right. Of course.

Checking his phone Hux realises it’s past seven in the morning. With much consideration for his back, he gets up and drags himself towards the half opened door of the bedroom, expecting the worst.

Hux knocks on the doorframe and call inside, “Kylo, you need to get up.” There is nothing. “Kylo?” he tries again, “please don’t make me go in there.” He pushes open the ajar door and walks inside.

The bed is empty. One pillow is on the floor while the other hands by the sheer power of will, the sheet covering the mattress has been pulled up, crinkled into disarray. But most of all: Kylo is missing.

Hux goes back into the living room, checks the kitchen, the office, finds the bathroom silent and then comes back into the living room. He stands, uncomfortably stepping from foot to foot, searching around the room. In some odd moment he realises that he fell asleep with the laptop open on his knees, but now its closed on the coffee table.

Soft footsteps shuffle over floorboards, disturbing the silence of the apartment. The curtains hanging over the balcony doors are swept up by a strong breeze, brushing them aside as the pale morning light pours into the room. There is a figure leaning against the balcony railing, shoulders slumped, legs crossed and head bowed.

Squaring his shoulders, Hux walks to the balcony and steps outside, showered by the sunlight that makes him wince. A cold winds envelops him, crawling under his shirt and biting his skin. He stands beside Kylo, resting his elbows against the railing. Hux doesn’t look up at Kylo who stares ahead at the buildings opposite the apartment.

“It’s morning.” Kylo’s voice is sleep scratched, his throat still sore from drinking too much and throwing up afterwards.

“Yes, it is,” Hux agrees.

“I should get going.” Kylo pushes away from the railing, fingertips lingering on the metal.

“Kylo.” Hux’s voice makes him pause. “If I asked you why you didn’t want to be alone yesterday, would you tell me the truth?”

“I will,” Kylo replies, “if you tell me why you were trying to stay awake all night.”

Hux finally turns and looks at Kylo: his hair is knotted, clumped together by sweat and days’ worth of filth, dark circles bruise his eyes and a permanent frown is etched onto his mouth. Hux still thinks him as a kid, still can’t believe the violence this child with an uneven freckled face and kind eyes is capable of. It’s a shame Hux knows exactly what had been done to him in order to make a kid capable of turning a man’s skull into a crushed mess of shattered bone and blood.

“I was afraid of spending the day talking to the police because an idiot decided to do something stupid,” Hux explains.

A strong gust of wind sweeps onto the balcony, rattling the balustrade and whipping the curtains against the walls.

“Fuck it’s cold,” Hux mutters, rubbing his arms in an attempt to recollect his warmth.

“We should go inside,” Kylo suggests.

“I don’t want to.”

With a grimace Kylo stalks inside, muttering under his breath something along the lines of “stubborn fuck”.

The wind calms gradually as Hux stands on the balcony, looking down onto the street. The morning commuters are already passing into the city, the yawning pedestrians scuttling across sidewalks, hunching against the wind. Above, the sky is clear, an even gradient of blue with lone meandering wisps of cloud.

Hux watches the scene beneath him, hating himself for not knowing how to deal with the situation. Maybe Kylo has already gone, but Hux hasn’t heard the door.

A heavy weight falls across his shoulders, enveloping him from neck to ankle. Hux realises that it’s his duvet and wraps it around himself.

“You really shouldn’t freeze yourself,” Kylo says, coming back to lean against the railing beside Hux.

“Your sentiment is gross.”

“I know.”

They stand wordless, watching the sun continue ascend on the horizon, the distant sound of the city traffic rising over the skyscrapers.

It isn’t the first time Hux and Kylo have found themselves like this, on a morning after a night they can’t quite explain or are even sure actually happened in the odd state between sleep and wake. Usually, if Kylo is the intruder he instantly excuses himself and finds his own way home on foot, not to be seen again for at least a month. If it’s Hux – and it usually isn’t – he calls for a taxi and returns home as if nothing happened and he has been deaf to the words that were too intimate for him and Kylo.

Something gently presses against Hux’s shoulder and when he turns he sees Kylo resting his chin on him, eyes almost closed. He considers him and gives no hesitation before leaning in and kissing the corner of Kylo’s lips. After a moment, Hux feels Kylo smile and then he is being pulled towards him, the duvet wrapped around them both. They smile as they kiss, chaste and gentle – something neither of them are.

They walk back into the apartment, closing the balcony door behind them. The sheet falls away onto the floor and arms wrap around Hux’s waist, keeping him close and so impossibly warm. They keep on kissing, so slow and still smiling. They don’t dare speak.

Somewhere along the way, they end up in the bedroom. Hux is pressing kisses to Kylo’s lips, cheeks, nose and brow while the other is trying to suppress a bashful smile.

“Your sentiment really is gross,” Kylo says and Hux is pulling away, biting his lip when he sees Kylo blushing.  

“Will you shut up and let me enjoy this?”

And then Kylo is kissing him, all gentle bites and roaming lips, hands running over Hux’s back and then he is hoisted up and they are falling onto the bed. Laughter fills the room and really, it’s like a stupid romance novel, but they don’t mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
